If someone were to ask Leliana to choose one thing she would absolutely never tolerate, it would have to be being kept out of the loop, to let the unknown take the rein. Her previous experiences have taught her that not having as much information as others in the room was tantamount to entering a battle without an armor on, rendering her defenseless.

The unknown, whatever shape it took and however variable it may be, was something to be despised and quelled. Of course, it was an enemy the nature of which rendered the victory against it nary impossible in her line of work, no matter how hard she tried. Thedas was big and there was always going to be something she missed. But Leliana knew she was a phenomenal Spymaster. She never walked into a room without at least nine out of ten unknowns known to her.

Except today. The amount of information she held at hand today may have been everything from a layperson's perspective, but for her it was infinitely close to zero.

When the Spymaster crossed the wicket and walked into the war room that afternoon, she sensed that now uncommon yet familiar feeling. That tight feeling in her solar plexus that let her know she was entering the war zone with a piece of her armor missing, that that one scrap of unknown was going to be her downfall. Her instinct was telling her that something unexpected may happen, and Leliana braced herself just in case.

The council meeting turned out to be not all that different from the previous ones. For the first time in a long while, Leliana felt foolish. Until the meeting swerved off course, without warning, when the Inquisitor intervened.

The young man looked around the table and intoned enigmatically, "It's high time we had a discussion about more neglected businesses."

This was it. Whatever that was putting Leliana on edge was about to be revealed. She crossed her arms and kept her voice even as she asked flatly, "Such as?"

Tharin counted with his right hand. "First, how to help the Orlesian refugees. Second, how to ingratiate ourselves to Orlais. And third, how to neutralize my family. These three to begin with."

"'Ingratiate' is such an ugly word…" murmured Josie with raised eyebrows. But she didn't look surprised by the sudden turn at all.

The Spymaster made a mental note to question, or rather interrogate, the Diplomat afterwards. How was it possible that Josie knew something before Leliana did?

Letting the errant exasperation at Josie's foreknowledge float away like an ice floe, Leliana inquired, knowing something important was coming, "Those are three very disparate goals. Do you perhaps have a suggestion as to how to connect all three?"

"How perceptive of you, Leliana. Why yes. Yes, I do." Tharin looked smug, which was a new look on him. She did not care for it. "First, let us start with Orlesian politics."

Leliana felt impatient by the faux air of mystery the Inquisitor put on, and so she spat, "Fine. Let's."

The young man was clearly oblivious to her acerbic tone, however. He began with gleeful eyes, "No matter which side wins the conflict, rebellious nobles would be the victor's biggest political concern. So, the Inquisition steps in and help get rid of them."

"How?"

"'How,' you ask? It's simple. A lot of these nobles have been displaced from their demesnes, since they have deiced to join their chosen candidates in respective areas of control. Those supporting Gaspard flocked to Verchiel and the Dales, those supporting Celene to Val Royeaux.

"Once we help resolve the war and make sure that the Empire is stable enough, we propose a law that would allow the imperial government to seize lands and properties owned by the rebellious nobles – read: the nobles in the other team –, under the pretext of helping reconstruction.

"It's a good excuse as well as a good cause. The confiscated farmlands shall be parceled and given at no cost to the serfs who actually till them. A good lot of them have been displaced as well, so emancipation won't be an issue, and the lands will provide them with the means to take care of themselves.

"Any forested lands shall be distributed to local Dalish clans. And any incidental profits from the confiscated properties can go toward rebuilding Orlais's economic capacity. We shall name the law, the Land Parcellations Act. That is how we keep Orlais united and strong."

It was a plan that would require a lot of political finesse, and hundreds of Inquisition soldiers alongside thousands of Orlesian troops to enforce. But it was feasible, and it was bold. If successfully implemented, the Land Parcellations Act would irrevocably alter the way a good chunk of the Orlesian society was structured, if not all.

Conceding that point, Leliana asked without any more barbs, "All right, we help whichever side that wins the Civil War, and we help the refugees. Then what? How do we placate the Trevelyans and fulfill your promise to them?" It was not at all likely the young man just forgot about Lucilla Trevelyan's request to lower the tariff barrier in Tevinter. But in case he did, here was a reminder.

The smirk on the young man widened until it was unbearable. "It all has to do with starting a business venture with my family."

Not particularly feasible scenario, but she was willing to entertain it. "From what you have told us, it doesn't sound like your family would make good friends to the Inquisition, yes? Why would we start a business venture with them?"

"Because, my dear Spymaster, that is how we play the Grand Game." As the young man turned to the Diplomat with that cocky smile, Leliana had to press down the urge to roll her eyes extravagantly. "Josephine?"

In her bubbly accent, Josie chirped, "The Inquisitor presented me with these ideas several days ago. I personally believe they are workable."

Leliana could not stop herself from pursing her mouth, which the Inquisitor must have seen, because his smug face became subdued as he continued. Thank the Maker.

"Lucilla Trevelyan has demanded that I negotiate lower tariff rates for wheat in Tevinter. It was obvious that she was expecting me to fail and humiliate myself. As you know, the Magisterium lives for grain tariffs. But fortunately for us, she did not give me a deadline.

"I suggest that we enter into a trade deal with the Trevelyans first, diverting two-thirds of the grains designated for Tevinter to feed the Orlesian refugees and our troops stationed in the Dales. I can convince Lucilla that relative scarcity of grains in Tevinter will force the government to lower the tariffs, while the family turns profit in Orlais. They won't care where they get their money so long as they get it."

With a raised brow Leliana asked tentatively, "So your plan is to give the Trevelyans everything they want and then some?"

The young man chuckled. "On the contrary. The truth of the matter is, I don't plan on honoring our agreement with the Trevelyans."

Leliana saw Cullen perk up all of a sudden. It was apparent that the man did not care for politics. The Commander had been an attentive, but silent spectator to this portion of the meeting thus far, though it did not stop his eyes from trailing Tharin across the room in such a predictable manner. A sunflower tracing the Sun's movement across the sky. But this was about the Inquisition's honor. Of course, the man cared.

Cullen's brows rose and his jaw clenched.

Obviously occupied in his mind, Tharin continued, "Would you agree that the Inquisition is one of the foremost political and military entities in Thedas right now?"

"Yes," intoned Leliana stonily.

"And would you agree that we have the wherewithal to distribute emergency supplies to refugees across Orlais right now?"

Slightly annoyed, the Spymaster tetchily agreed, "Again, yes."

"Well, as far as I am aware, the Trevelyans do not have such presence in Orlais. They will need to tap into our network to distribute the grains. And once all the grains are consumed, I will announce that they are my family's selfless and gracious gesture to the Empire, free of charge. A bridewealth of a sort from me.

"The famous Tevene statesman Kanina said, 'If you owe your banker a thousand golds, you are at his mercy. If you owe him a million golds, he is at your mercy.' We are merely applying the same logic to the situation. We will owe them a million golds in the form of distributed grains and a promise to curtail tariffs in Tevinter.

"The Trevelyans will not dare move against the Inquisition, lest we quash even the slimmest possibility of repaying them and negotiating better tariffs. And to outsiders, the Inquisition and the family would appear to be working in perfect concert, with me at the center.

"Besides, Leliana's scouts have found out that the Trevelyans have no private army to speak of, despite being one of the factions that control Ostwick. And after we are through with them, they will have no monetary resources to purchase mercenaries either."

After Tharin finished his lengthy presentation, complete silence dominated the war room. Leliana could practically see the cogs turning rapidly in Josie's head as the Diplomat calculated all different ways the plan could turn out.

As for herself, the Spymaster knew the plan was fine as long as the Inquisition could actualize it, and she believed they could. What's more, she determined the young man's assessment of the situation as accurate. She looked into the icy blue eyes of the Inquisitor and felt her lips curl upward. She was almost proud of the young man.

But suddenly, the Commander's soft voice rang out, disturbing the absolute hush like a tiny pebble tossed into a pond with thoughtful intent, "So… this is your plan."

"Yes." The young man, looking mystified, cocked his head. "What troubles you?"

Cullen leaned over the table and exhaled deeply. "Are you absolutely sure you want to carry it out? I know the Trevelyans have upset you, but you don't have to take the low road with them. You can rise above it."

Tharin's brow creased in barely concealed displeasure. The transformation was stark. "You don't understand what it has been like for me to be a Trevelyan. It has been a curse upon me, a vaporous gloom that refuses to lift. Yes, Commander, this is exactly what I want."

"Inquisitor…" Faced with the sudden anger, Cullen's wildflower-honey eyes turned plaintive, but to no avail.

The young man scoffed and declared too loudly, "It's how the Grand Game is played, right? I'm just looking out for the Inquisition's best interest."

But was he? All of a sudden, Leliana was reminded of the secret that festered underneath the righteous façade of the Inquisition. She was less certain of Tharin's motives now than ever before. She tried to convince herself that the scale of the plan was far beyond a mere personal vendetta, and if executed correctly, it would help propel the Inquisition's diplomatic standing to a new high.

In spite of the despondency that seemed to permeate Cullen's presence now, the man was not giving up. "Aren't we supposed be striving for a better world? If we abuse the Inquisition's power to ruin your family, how are we… how are you as the Inquisitor any different from other capricious tyrants?"

"I would argue that this is all part of a process. And if the Inquisition comes out on top in the end, what does it matter?"

With his hands holding onto the table with whitened knuckles now, the Commander lowered his eyes. He whispered, but his voice was unwavering, "It does matter. The process matters, not just the result. How we achieve our goals matters."

And when Cullen lifted his eyes again there was an anguish that managed to make Leliana pity the man. "Inquisitor. Tharin. Please, let us talk more about this."

"Drop it, Cullen. We are doing this. Josephine, please plan out the logistics." Tharin firmly crossed his arms, and Cullen hung his head low, anguish transposed into complete dejection.

Evidently ignorant of the shadow in the Commander's visage, Josie looked hardly able to suppress her excitement. She cheerfully twirled her right hand with the quill and said, "Your wish is my command, my lord." And then began to scribble on her board furiously.

As she watched the two men intently, Leliana nodded deliberately. Niggling doubts aside, the plan was inspired, to say the least, and the political calculations were sound. And safeguarding the Inquisition's honor in the eyes of those who mattered? Well, that's what her agents were for.

Thus was born the Grand Scheme that would win the Inquisition the Grand Game, despite the Commander's apparent objections.

After the war room meeting, Leliana had asked Josie to stop by her desk when the Diplomat was done with her day. They had much to discuss.

"All right, I am here. what do you need, Leliana?"

The Spymaster looked up from a field report one of her scouts in Emprise du Lion had sent and saw Josie climbing up the stairs to her floor of the rotunda.

Without missing a beat, she inquired, "How did you know about the plan beforehand?"

The Diplomat sniffed as though she had expected it. Knowing Josie, she probably did. "Ah, so it's about that, I see."

With her arms crossed, Josie began to explain, "The Inquisitor came to me the other day with the plan. It wasn't like I was keeping it secret. He said he was going to present it at our war council meeting, so I figured you would find out then." She raised her left hand and tipped her head. "You know I would have told you if it was more than that."

Leliana stared hard at Josie, but Josie wasn't likely to look away. The woman was just as stubborn, if not more.

Eventually, the Spymaster decided that this was not a battle worth her time. Besides, she trusted Josie. She shrugged and replied casually, "Okay. If you say so."

Josie took a deep breath and approached Leliana. She sat on the desk with mismatched planks and crossed her arms again. "Have you any thoughts on the plan?"

After scrawling her signature on the field report and putting it aside, Leliana gathered her hands and answered, "I think it's rather complicated, which isn't surprising for a novice plotter to come up with. But I also think it's entirely workable and could be beneficial to the Inquisition."

"My thoughts exactly. I must agree, there is no finesse or sense of moderation. Yet it is inspired." Josie broke out in a wide, toothy smile. "It's his first political intrigue. How cute is that?"

But Leliana had her doubts. And she knew Josie was the only one she felt safe about voicing them. So, she did. "You don't think it is purely based on personal vendetta? That we might be putting Inquisition resources on a project that benefits only Tharin?"

"Well…" Josie considered for a long while. It wasn't like her. She usually had quick answers that were tactful and well-rehearsed. "I cannot definitively say the plan is not about his personal issues. But reforming Orlesian society and feeding refugees of the Civil War in the name of the Inquisition? What's more honorable than that?"

The Diplomat waved her right hand, obviously dismissing Leliana's concerns. But she was slightly off the mark. "Don't mind the Commander. He has a very specific idea of what honor means."

"You know I don't." It wasn't about Cullen. It was about Tharin and his secret.

Josie leaned in closer and whispered, "What is going on between those two?"

"Who?" Leliana feigned ignorance.

Josie snorted and shook her head. "The Inquisitor and the Commander, silly."

"Nothing serious."

It wasn't as though Leliana was not adept at pretending nonchalance. But with Josie, it was a hard act to keep up. The woman was indeed more perceptive than the imbeciles and nincompoops the Spymaster was used to dealing with. The Diplomat narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "…You know something more, don't you?"

"I don't."

Evidently not believing Leliana a single bit, Josie smirked. "Fine. I suppose my prying won't do any good, Sister Nightingale."

"That epithet sounds strange coming from you, Josie. Honestly."

As soon as the Spymaster showed her distaste for that particular nickname, she knew she committed a tactical error. Josie broke out in a wicked smile and spoke in a thoughtful tone, "Does it? Maybe I ought to use it more often, until it doesn't sound strange."

Leliana sighed. "Please don't."

The Diplomat leaned in even closer and talked directly into the Spymaster's left ear. "If you know what's good for you, you will tell me about Tharin and Cullen, and soon."

"Fine, have it your way. Call me Sister Nightingale."

"Aw, you are no fun, Leliana." Josie chortled good-naturedly and patted Leliana's left shoulder. In turn, the Spymaster rolled her eyes and flicked the hand off her.

What does Leliana know? And Lucilla will be so happy. /s

A short chapter, but it sets up the events of latter half of Part III.

Next up, Emprise du Lion and what Tharin finds there, coming on Sunday, June 13.

The Japan AU fic has started! Check out Where the Waves Crest (波の上り詰める所) - the fourth chapter to be posted on Sunday, June 6 - as well as the teaser fics today!